


Yeah, You Leave That Alone

by 36and40



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Drinking, Established Relationship, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, gay relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6749242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/36and40/pseuds/36and40
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately following The Chitters episode; a look at what happens when César and Jesse reach their ranch land in New Mexico.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yeah, You Leave That Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I felt that Jesse and César merited a bit more exploration. I really liked their characters (especially César). Two skilled and competent hunters and a couple...they fell in with Sam and Dean so easily. I wanted to write something short about what happened when they retired, as well as a bit of their back-story. 
> 
> There aren't enough thanks for my beta soncnica who beta'd this super-fast. Also, thanks to my unnamed friend and fellow slash fan who is so encouraging whenever I want to attempt to write something.

César and Jesse roll to a dusty, dry desert air stop in front of a one-room cabin on ten acres with the mountains in the background. The heat of the day has morphed into a soft blue sky with a few stars starting to blink overhead. César turns to Jesse who has put his forehead down on the steering wheel.

"It's over. We did it. We're home."

Jesse nods weakly. Utterly spent by the drive and the closure they'd just achieved in Colorado two days before alongside one incredibly skilled hunter and his incredibly tall and equally skilled brother.

Jesse feels César's hand on his thigh and is taken aback, even after all these years, to see the care on his partner's face when he turns his head, still resting on the steering wheel. It had been so long. He'd been chasing revenge for his brother for _so long_. He bites his lip.

"I know," says César quietly. He puts his hand on the side of Jesse's face, pulling him away from the steering wheel and towards the warmth and light that Jesse always finds when he looks at the man he loves.

Jesse is no exhibitionist. But out here...there is no one else for miles. Just the way he likes it and he has always felt drawn towards César. A magnetic attraction. Ever since the first time he saw him while tracking El Viejo del Saco south of the border. He grabs a handful of César's t-shirt and tugs. The kiss is rough with stubble from both their faces and hotter than the desert sun at noon. César breaks the kiss first, panting and trying to catch his breath. Jesse's doing the same but he still leans his forehead against César's, "I'm so sorry, C," he says quietly, looking down. "I know it's been way too long. I know I've been...for the past few months..." He can feel two fingers press against his lips and his eyes fly up to meet his partner's.

"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. We had work to do," César says matter-of-factly. A smile starts to creep across his face, "now the work is done. We can have a little fun." César's hand leaves Jesse's mouth and heads south to the belt buckle.

"Jesus Christ," Jesse lets his head fall back at César's touch. His partner is looming over him now and he feels César's breath right next to his ear, "How 'bout I get on my knees for you, huh? Right outside the truck. I've missed you so much, Jess. I've missed...this..so much."

Jesse shakes his head slightly, "No," he begins.

César looks slightly concerned, "Hey, I know it's been awhile, but - "

This time it's Jesse's two fingers over César's lips. "I wanna see you," he says, voice rough with desire and exhaustion.

"Let's go inside," he stares intently into his partner's eyes. He can feel César smiling under his fingers as he gives a small nod.

They've never exited a pickup truck so fast in their lives.

The door barely closes behind them when Jesse's hand plunges deep into the open V of César's jeans; searching out the dark hair at the base of his cock and his balls, further down. César's hands are on Jesse's zipper too and in no time they have their jeans off and the skin-to-skin contact of their cocks is winding Jesse up. Fast. César leans in and Jesse responds as their lips meet and mouths open, tongues searching while they continue to grind against each other.

Jesse feels César reach down and pull at his knee, bringing his foot up onto a bench next to the wall they're plastered against. César's hand cradles his balls, "Christ, man, how long's it been since you even got yourself off?" Jesse's full and heavy and he grunts at César's touch, still responsive as ever, even if it had been a long time, and when he feels something thick pressing behind his sack, it doesn't make him stop moving, but it does make him gasp out: ''C, I can't...it's uh, it's been too long and I'm not ready and - "

"I know. Trust me."

He feels César's large knuckle, pressing gently. Nothing entering him...it's just a reminder - a promise for the future - and his ring of nerve endings light up with that knowledge. That César still wants him in this way. Would wait for him. _Has_ waited for him in spite of his single-minded focus over the past few months and years spent avenging his brother's death. Jesse's mind flashes back to how it started. Just shy of a decade flies by in a single second-long flash of memory.

 

They met in a roadhouse in Juarez. A place known to be frequented by hunters. They were both around thirty-two then; old enough to know that they'd always known what they wanted. Jesse, at that age, still loved to fight and he definitely still loved to fuck. He also loved to drink. When a man with a neatly trimmed beard, bronze skin, and deep, dark eyes bought him a drink, he didn't refuse. They recognized something in each other that night. Immediately. It's not like roadhouses were known as safe-havens for men who were into other men. Especially not back then.

By the next night, César was on his knees in the alley a few blocks down from the roadhouse, Jesse's cock in his mouth, and César's mouth was...heaven. Jesse, a bit too enthusiastically, grabbed a hold of the back of his head, thrusting hard, until he heard César gag. He tried to slow down. He knew he was about to lose it, but César refused to ease off and Jesse came hard down his throat, gripping César by the hair and pressing him forcefully against his body, wanting every inch of his cock inside that talented mouth.  He tried to apologize. He hadn't meant to do that; not the first time; not really. He was, honestly, just a bit too drunk to control it. César just smiled as Jesse hauled him up off the ground, looking him up and down and stating suggestively, "Que hombre," as Jesse pulled him in for a kiss, tasting himself on César's tongue.  He wasn't usually the kissing type, but he wanted César with an intensity that scared him.

That night, they hadn't been as discreet as he thought with their furtive glances and small nods as they had wordlessly negotiated that mind-blowing blow job in the alley over a couple of Coronas. On the way back into the bar, a seated man reached up and grabbed Jesse's arm, pulled him down and whispered to him, "Whaddya say to lending me your boyfriend next?" and stuffed a fifty dollar bill into Jesse's hand. Jesse went hot with anger, throwing the money on the floor as he yanked the man out of his chair, his fist connecting with the stranger's face before he even knew what he was doing.

César, re-entered the bar a few minutes later, so as not to make it look too obvious that they had been together the whole time, and took in the sight of the man sprawled, out cold, on the floor, still with a visible hard-on, a splatter of blood across his face and Jesse's wild expression. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"What'd he say to you?"

"Nothing, forget it."

"Something about me?"

Jesse looked away, "Something he shouldn't have."

"It's sweet you think you need to defend my honor, man, but I'm not a princess."

"Fuck, I know, I just, he shouldn't have said that."

César's hand was on his shoulder and he leaned in close, whispering "Thanks."

César saw the bartender motioning wildly to him. He left Jesse and made his way over to find out what he wanted. "That guy your friend just put down?" the bartender said with audible fear in his voice, "He's Medellîn, man, you gotta get outta here now!"

You don't fuck with the cartel.

They crossed into Texas with all of their worldly posessions less than an hour later.

They started working together. It just seemed natural. César had helped him in Mexico with El Viejo del Saco and it had been so easy to work with him. Not to mention that Jesse ended up owing him his life.

Two weeks after they left Mexico in their rear view, over dinner, César fixed Jesse with a smoldering stare.

"I want to feel you. Inside me."

Jesse had never had anyone talk to him so directly. He almost choked on his burger. It turned him on beyond belief though and he felt a wet warmth soaking his briefs. Not like they hadn't done anything at all together for the last two weeks, but Jesse didn't want to scare this guy off. He was starting to feel...different about him.

That directness, combined with the fact that César had made what Jesse would have sworn was an impossible kill shot from thirty yards, back in Mexico, putting a bullet through the head of the El Viejo del Saco as it closed in on Jesse, thereby saving his life...it was gratitude and warmth and lust all rolled into one and Jesse knew he was quickly becoming powerless to resist. Not to mention the fact that if César wanted him, the last thing he wanted to do was resist.

"W..What?" Jesse managed to stammer out.

César stood slowly and walked to Jesse's side of the table. He leaned over and whispered low in his ear, "I said, I want that incredible cock of yours so deep in my ass that I feel it in the back of my throat. Think you can handle that? Stallion?”

With that, César straightened up and walked out without a backwards glance. Jesse felt like he was clamoring after him like a puppy, though his raging hard on made it a bit difficult to catch up.

Jesse was glad they hadn't been drinking that night. He still remembered every detail. It was one of his happiest memories. And probably the first time he'd done this without a drop of alcohol in him.

But it was more than the sex. There was something about this guy. When he wasn't with him, he couldn't stop thinking about him. When they were together, he never wanted them to have to go their separate ways. They spent weeks running into each other around the tiny Texas border town where they had landed, and when they did run into each other, whatever they had been doing had to wait because there was an unused bed in a motel somewhere that always seemed to be calling to them.

Jesse thought about doing things with César that he'd never entertained with any other man. While he enjoyed their casual arrangement, immensely, there was something else. He couldn't get over how giving this man was. Usually, sex for Jesse was a quick and dirty affair. A solution to a problem. This was another animal entirely. He'd never _not_ been able to walk away once he got what he wanted. Until now. Until César.

Several weeks after that first frantic night together in the hotel, they were watching the crowd in yet another dive bar, this time sitting on the same side of the booth facing out. César must have noticed that Jesse was even quieter than usual, which was saying something.

"You alright?" César suddenly asked him. Eyes concerned.

Jesse took a deep breath. He'd been thinking about it. Now or never. He was so horrible with words, but he wanted to show this man that this was different for him. He was better with action and he could think of no bigger or more meaningful gesture.

"I wanted to ask you something," he began.

"Shoot," César responded absentmindedly.

"I want you to, you know, with me," he inadequately tried to explain.

César's brow furrowed. Jesse had his full attention now since somehow César could feel that Jesse was trying to put something big into words. "You want me to...what, exactly, with you?"

This was beyond embarrassing. He'd never in his entire life tried to talk about this; about what he wanted. Fuck, he never really _asked_ for anything. The way he was raised, you weren't supposed to want to DO it, let alone talk about it. Not to mention the fact that his beloved brother, Matty, had disappeared just one day after he'd confessed his first kiss with another boy at school to him. Matty had nodded in understanding and Jesse had felt the most enormous weight lift from his shoulders. Then Matty was gone and Jesse couldn't help but connect the two; to feel like he was being punished for his sinful nature by losing the one person who completely understood him. He had never really tried to _talk_ about any of this since then.

Jesse felt his ears flame red and he quickly stood up and pushed away from the table in frustration.

He felt an iron grip around his wrist and looked down to see César's hand.

“Sit down. Don't go. Please."

He sat down, skin crawling with discomfort.

César's eyes bored into him, "It’s okay. Tell me what you want. It's me, remember?"

Jesse put his hand over his eyes and scrubbed it down his face. He muttered, low, "I want you to fuck me, okay?"

César tentatively let go of his wrist.

"You gonna go?" he asked. Jesse shook his head. César leaned back and looked him up and down, partly trying to figure him out, partly, it looked like, _very_ interested in what Jesse was trying to say.

"I just thought that a stallion like you liked to...pitch." He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Jesse inarticulately responded.

"But you think you might want to try...catching. While I pitch?"

Jesse couldn't look at him.

César continued, "You ever...catch...before?"

Jesse looked out the window and shook his head. "You ever...pitch?"

"I'm," César's lips twitched into a small smile, "...versatile."

Jesse nodded slowly. "So...you wanna get outta here?"

César thought for a minute. "Tomorrow night. Come over to my motel room tomorrow night. That okay?"

Jesse thought he might go out of his mind waiting that long, but he tried to sound casual, "Yeah, sure, tomorrow night." He reached under the table and gave César's thigh a squeeze. Then moved his hand up before giving another squeeze. César swallowed his drink and tried not to choke on it.

Somehow, Jesse made it through the next day, but he definitely didn't get any work done.

That night, César answered the door. Barefoot. Black jeans. A short-sleeve button down open completely in the front. Jesse drank in the sight like a man dying of thirst. Soft short hair overCésar's bronze chest leading down to his belt and the visible bulge below. Jesse swallowed hard and tried to close the door quietly behind him. As soon as he heard the soft "click", he backed César up against the wall, one hand on his chest, the other behind his neck kissing him roughly. He grabbed one of César's hands and led it to his own belt. César pulled his hand back and Jesse's heart hammered in his chest.

"What?" Jesse was so afraid of doing something wrong. What was happening to him? Usually he never second-guessed himself.

César responded like he was trying to make sure he got every word out clearly, "Don't get me wrong. I got off once today already thinking about you. And tonight. I'm pretty sure I'd love to tear all the clothes off of your body right now. But if you want this from me. Like this. It has to be at your speed." César put some distance between them and leaned back against the opposite wall, slouching a little, legs widening. "So, stallion, show me what you've got." César's hand dropped and began moving over his crotch and the obvious, long line of his cock reaching up towards his waistband.

Jesse took a deep breath and pulled his shirt off over his head, then undid his belt buckle. He couldn't believe how self-conscious he felt, taking his clothes off for someone else. But César was watching him with so much desire and caring in his eyes, like he liked, very much, what Jesse was showing him. Jesse willed himself to relax. By the time he was entirely naked, heavy cock throbbing between his legs, he felt steady enough to make his way over to bed.

"Here?" he asked, gesturing to the mattress.

César crossed the room to stand next to him, "Anywhere you want.”

Jesse climbed onto the bed, on all fours, trying to remember what he liked to see in front of him when he had been in César's position.

So, down to business then?" César asked. Jesse couldn't see the look of pure adoration on his face, seeing Jesse spread out and trusting in front of him.

"I know what I want," Jesse hoped he sounded a lot more sure than he felt. He heard the top of a tube open and a second later, César's thick fingers were slippery and circling...

"You don't have to...I mean...I...um...I'm ready." Jesse had already come earlier that day with his fingers inside himself, working himself open and thinking about César's bronze skin and wicked mouth.

"I know. I can tell." César sounded like he was smiling.

Jesse heard the condom pack tear. His body felt electrified, not sure what to expect. He felt the heat from César's thighs between his own. He felt something much larger than fingers, nudging.

Jesse felt César press forward, stretching him slowly. The stretch hurt, but the lube helped and Jesse held still. Held his breath. He felt the soft hair at the base of César's cock against his ass. César was breathing hard and he stayed still, letting Jesse get a feel for him. So this is what it was like to have a considerate partner...

"Please," Jesse whispered. With that, César pulled back and pressed forward again, this time with purpose, his cock stroking Jesse's prostate.

On only the third press, Jesse cried out. It felt like his heart was exploding through his cock, open and raw and completely out of his control. For a control freak, that scared him a bit, but he'd never felt anything like it. Fuck. That was way too fast, but he couldn't stop it. His cock twitched and convulsed into the bedspread under him, emptying to the rhythm of César's thrusts.

He was vaguely aware of César moving behind him. The stroking inside him didn't stop until suddenly César grabbed Jesse's hips and buried himself deep. Through the pleasurable fog in his brain, Jesse heard the man behind him groan out an "Oh, fuck, yeah," and felt the heat as César released, filling the condom inside him. Jesse felt César's weight on his back as he allowed himself to completely collapse down onto the mattress.

He didn't plan what happened next. It just came out.

"Please don't leave."

Silence. No response at all from the man whose weight was now lifting up and off of him. Jesse felt a knot in his stomach. César carefully withdrew, holding the base of the condom. Jesse was afraid to move. Afraid to breathe. Afraid of the response. He heard a soft "thwack" as the condom hit the trash can. He felt a pair of large hands gently rolling him over onto his back followed by César stretching out next to him.

"Why do you think I would do that, huh?" came the response to the statement that seemed to have hung in the air for minutes.

Jesse looked up at ceiling. He couldn't look César in the face. "You know. This life...me..." he knew he wasn't Prince Charming. He knew that the second you looked away or got distracted or faltered, someone you cared about could disappear forever. He had told him about his brother that first night in Juarez, just after he'd polished off the worm at the bottom of the bottle of Mezcal.

Jesse had tried to keep himself from caring ever since that night Matty disappeared or was taken, overtaken, more like it, by that _thing_ ... With César, he was utterly failing.

César pushed himself up and put a hand over the center of Jesse's chest. "I've got plans for the future, Jess. They include you."

Jesse smiled. "You've gotta stick around long enough for me to prove to you that I can last longer than a minute," he said sheepishly.

"I took it as a compliment," César replied simply. "You noticed I didn't do much better. You're too fucking hot. Felt so fucking amazing. I couldn't last."

"We'll work on it," Jesse said quietly. _Fuck, I can't wait to work on it._

"Don't think I don't know," César said softly after a few minutes of silence.

Jesse furrowed his brow.

"For a man like you, I know what a huge gift this was. I know. Thank you. I'm honored."

All Jesse could do was swallow hard and nod slightly, but he pulled César against him and held him tightly, hoping to convey everything he was feeling.

César understood.

 

And now they'd made it to the future. Fuck, they were _living_ the future. It was incredible enough, with all they'd been through, that they were still living at all.

Feeling the press of César's knuckle from behind, tongue in his mouth, and cocks rubbing together, Jesse groaned, "Jesus Christ, fuck," and he was shooting forcefully between them. It had been so long. He was fully loaded and his come sheathed César’s cock in slick. César shuddered against him as his cock pulsed hot, dripping down Jesse's stomach and onto his thighs. They stood there, holding on and breathing hard until Jesse felt César’s hand on the side of his jaw, urging their lips together again. The kiss was soft and Jesse was more than a bit surprised to open his eyes and see the wetness on César's cheeks. He'd probably seen the man cry maybe twice in all their years together.

Jesse pulled back slightly. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

César bit his lip and nodded. "Yeah. I'm good. Really good." He smiled, small crinkles appeared around the corners of his eyes and it broke Jesse's heart open.

The next morning, over coffee from the water heated on the wood stove, César said, "I've got to go see a man about a horse tomorrow. Think maybe we could stop by the courthouse after?"

Jesse set down his mug and stared. He should have realized. Hell _he_ should have thought of it first. He'd been so caught up in the job...he barely even let himself consider what came after no matter how much time César had spent talking about the ranch and the future he was sure they would have. "You...want to get married?" he asked cautiously.

"I can hardly believe it's even legal," César huffed. "If only my macho uncles were still alive; this would kill them."

Jesse chuckled. He looked at this man who had given up so many years of his life for him. So many years just to help _him_ do what he had to do. It was about time, that's for fucking sure. Time to stop living for revenge and look at what was right here in front of him. He knew he was one lucky sonofabitch.

Jesse got up and walked across the kitchen to stand behind César who was washing dishes at the sink with the hand pump. Running water was still going to be a few months out. He put his arms around César's waist and slowly turned him around to face him. "C'mon, man, my hands are all wet - " César started to protest.

Jesse ignored him. He got down on one knee. He was going to do this right. César deserved that much. He deserved everything.

 

Jesse chides César all the way into town the next day about shopping for horses before they even have the pasture decently fenced off. "I'm just looking," César insists.

He's sure the rancher they meet with doesn’t know quite what to make of the two of them, dressed in such clean jeans with freshly-pressed shirts. They put a down payment on a couple mares and one stallion that César said was definitely going to be named Jess.

They were really doing it. Building a future. Starting a real life.

Jesse wants to fuck him so badly; right there in the courthouse men's room, but he holds off.

Now they were back home, each with a silver band around their ring fingers, purchased at the Sam's Club in town about half an hour before they were due at the courthouse. Jesse wished he had been better with words. When the judge asked if he wanted to say anything, he had shuffled his feet before glancing up at César from under his lowered eyelids and was barely able to get out, "You know this is it for me. It always has been. You're it for me." before he couldn't say any more without fear of choking on the words. César had squeezed his hand and told him something he had obviously prepared ahead of time about destiny and certainty and reward at the end of a long road.

Jesse was reluctant to kiss César in front of the judge and court witness. That could have gotten him beaten within an inch of his life in the town where he was raised and in most of the towns he'd been through since then. He didn't know if he'd ever get used to this new world. Somehow there had been this seismic shift while he had been busy going after revenge for his brother. He felt like he must have been asleep for decades only to wake up somewhere new and strange where he was _supposed_ to kiss the man he loved in a court of law in front of a judge he didn't know.

 

"No tequila?" César asks as Jesse walks over to him with a bottle and two glasses.

"Naw, man, that's more my thing. I wanted to get this for you." He sets down the single-malt Scotch he'd stashed the first time they set foot in that cabin, so long ago, never really thinking he'd make it to "someday" when they'd use it for a celebration.

"You're so romantic."

"You'd better not fucking tell anyone else," Jesse smiles as he opens the bottle.

"Never." César accepts the offered full glass, but he doesn't drink. Instead, he stands up, meeting Jesse and demanding a deep kiss, which Jesse is only too happy to give him.

"I can't fucking believe it," César whispers when they break.

"Me neither," Jesse replies. "I feel...like I'm home."

"You are."

"We are."

 

**Two years later....**

A gorgeous black car turns off the pavement and drives under the arch at the front gate that proclaims in wrought iron "Rancho Matty".

The engine cuts out next to a small one-room cabin, now adjacent to a two-story adobe structure with a small electrical generator windmill in the back yard.

Dean steps out, irked at the blanket of dust covering his baby, but happy to be standing after so many days folded up on the road.

He hears a screen door slam and suddenly a small blue herder is nudging at his hand, wanting her ears scratched. César bounds up next to the dog, smacking Dean on the back and then pulling him into a quick hug. "Sorry about the dog, man. She got out before I could grab her."

"No sweat," Dean drawls, cracking his back. "Good to see you man."

"You too, brother," César's smile is big and genuine.

Dean looks around, taking it in. The larger house, the fenced pasture, the barn, the herd of fifteen horses he can see grazing off in the distance. He lets out a low whistle. "You did it. You fucking did it, man. This place is awesome. You're a couple of real cowboys."

"Except we don't actually raise cattle," César points out. Dean doesn't care. It's his John Wayne Clint Eastwood cowboy fantasy laid out in front of his eyes and he's not going to let the facts get in the way. He could use a distraction like this right now.

"It's just like you said it would be," Dean observes, slightly awed, "when we met on that first case and I didn't believe a hunter could actually retire."

"Everything I wanted," César beams. "Well, almost everything," he says, eyes soft, nodding to the man with the goatee making his way across the drive.

Jesse almost squeezes the breath out of Dean. "Glad you finally made it," he teases. "We only invited you, what, a year ago?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. Sam and I were...busy for awhile there."

César and Jesse exchange concerned looks.

"But enough about me, you gotta show me around," Dean's change of subject gives them whiplash. Jesse takes note and plans to ask him more about it later. Maybe Dean'll feel more talkative after a few shots of tequila.

"Love to," Jesse steps forward and grabs Dean's duffle.

"Wow, concierge service," Dean quips wryly.

"Fuck you," Jesse shoots back, laughing. "I ain't your maid; you're going to have to make your own bed, but this place is yours as long as you want it," Jesse gestures to the one-room cabin. "There's pretty much an arsenal under the trap door under the rug,"

Dean raises an eyebrow, "And is there a reason I'm going to _need_ an arsenal under the rug?"

"Naw, man," César replies. "Just, you know...I know hunters feel better if they know they're covered."

"True," Dean agrees. "Thanks."

 

 

**THE END**

 


End file.
